


The Next Great Adventure

by chibioniyuri



Category: Cassandra Palmer Series - Karen Chance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibioniyuri/pseuds/chibioniyuri
Summary: Objectively, he knew this day was going to be difficult. It's another matter entirely to live through it.





	The Next Great Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY GUYS

The morning is like any other. He wakes with dawn and leaves his wife sleeping under a mound of blankets keeping out the chill in the air. He dresses quickly in a comfortable set of slacks and a sweater and heads downstairs to start the coffeemaker. 

He checks the wards absentmindedly and finds them undisturbed. The woods outside the house are quiet and still. He relaxes, pours himself a mug of coffee and settles on the kitchen table.

He looks over the notebook laid in front of him. He'd stayed up late the night before, looking over the list repeatedly until his wife had chided him to bed. He knows he's being ridiculous; he knows they've planned as well as they can. But it has to go _right_. He reads over it again in agitation, checking off items one by one. 

Drop Cassandra at babysitter.  
Pick up shipment of magical items.  
Stop by bank.  
Grocery store.

It's a simple list. He knows the route he needs to take. He has a rough schedule drawn up in his head. At this point, the most important details have been handled and it's just the mundane things left, but he's nervous and he can't help it. He'll just check one more time.

He's on something like his tenth compulsory check when the stairs creak. He looks up as his wife enters the kitchen, and he watches her take her favorite mug - Van Gogh's Starry Night, for the irony - from the drain board, pour coffee with creamer and sugar, and settle next to him at the table. She holds his gaze calmly, pushes away the notebook, and settles her hand over his.

“You know that list by heart by now.”

“Probably. Ok yes,” he adds when she continues looking at him blandly. “But-”

“No, Rag. You've been working on this for months. You’ve taken care of the big stuff. All that's left is the minutiae.”

“It's the small stuff that worries me,” he retorts. “What if they figure out we have something planned? What if something goes wrong?”

“It won't.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

She smiles at him, and it's that breathtakingly fond smile that he fell in love with. “Because I trust you.”

And it's really that simple. They sit together in silence, holding hands and drinking coffee and letting the atmosphere of their home settle around them.

He looks at the clutter scattered around. It’s just normal, everyday things. There's nothing urgent to take care of, nothing that won't hold for awhile. He thinks of the contents of the fridge, which is pretty minimal at this point, with half a dozen eggs, a quarter jug of milk, and some apple juice. The nearly empty cupboards. He'll need to do the dishes after breakfast. Will it look suspicious if he takes out the trash? 

When he can't stand the hamster wheel of thoughts anymore, he offers to make breakfast. There isn't much left, but scrambled eggs with toast is doable. Lizzie nods and watches him move around the kitchen. Normally she'd be the one making breakfast; she's pretty adamant about fueling up for the day. He appreciates that she's letting him take over today, grateful for the distraction from the frisson of nervous energy crackling in his veins.

When the eggs are nearly settled and the toast has been buttered, Lizzie comes to stand next to him, wraps an arm around his waist and leans into his side. She looks at the eggs and frowns. 

“What is it?”

“I…” she purses her lips. “Do you think Cassandra would like cereal instead?”

“Hmm. That's a hard one. The bowlful of sugar that's a rare treat or scrambled yuck.” He huffs out a laugh when she elbows him in the stomach. “I think she'd like that instead, yes. You go get her and I'll get it set up.”

Lizzie disappears upstairs, her soft white dress swishing around her legs. He hears muffled voices as he plates the eggs and toast and pours some cereal for his daughter. He's just set glasses of juice on the table when Lizzie reappears, carrying Cassandra downstairs, his daughter clinging tightly to a stuffed rabbit and resting her head on Lizzie’s shoulder. She blinks sleepy eyes at him as Lizzie settles her at the kitchen table. He ruffles her hair, sending the curls into disarray and causing the little girl to scowl mightily at him. Seems Sam has been teaching her some expressions he’d prefer his 4 year old doesn’t know. It most certainly isn’t something she’s learned from him.

He can’t help but grin at her fierce expression - one that's he's seen on a much more mature face from some time in the future - and slides a bowl of colorful marshmallows and cereal across the table. Cassandra lights up as the bowl comes to rest in front of her. She starts picking all the cereal bits out and crunching them dry between her teeth. When she's eaten all the dry pieces, she'll ask for milk for the marshmallows, wait until it's a colorful mess, and then eat them one by one. 

Normally he'd chide her to eat them altogether, to save time. Normally, Lizzie would have let Cassandra walk down the stairs on her own, and Hoppy, sitting at the table next to her elbow, would have remained upstairs. But today…. Today, they let her do as she wishes.

Breakfast is a quick affair. He laments that as he clears the table, and Lizzie explains that Cassandra needs to get ready for the babysitter. Normally, she'd pout and whine about wanting to follow her mother to the garden, or have Daisy tell her stories, or sit quietly with a picture book while he works on extracting magic. But apparently she's been promised an outing the next time she comes, and Cassandra is talking about adventures. 

He'd like some simple adventures right about now.

He washes the dishes while Lizzie gets Cassandra ready. He hears laughter and thumps from upstairs, and it brings a bittersweet smile to his face. He can't believe- he stops himself. He can't allow that train of thought to continue. 

They're all ready in under an hour. Rag carries a backpack stuffed with picture books and a spare set of clothes and Hoppy, all normal fare for outings, and Lizzie carries Cassandra, her nose nearly nestling in bright blonde curls. If she's clinging a little tighter than normal, it's not obvious. A few minutes’ walk across the grounds and they're at their car. It's a black Mercedes with leather seats today, Cassandra's car seat already set up in the back. It just takes a minute, and they're on their way.

The first stop is the babysitter. Cassandra jabbers about going to the park and playing in the sandbox. He listens to every word avidly, as does Lizzie next to him. He encourages her to build the largest castle she can, with a moat if possible - yes, it'll look just like Camelot, he's sure. Another chat he’ll need to have with Sam.

The drive is entirely too short. He stops in front of the house and succumbs to sentimentality. He can't help it, doesn't care if it looks odd that he's getting out instead of waiting like normal. He needs to give his girl a big hug and feel her arms around him, soft lips placing a big wet smack of a kiss on his cheek.

There's a small hiccup when they walk her up to the door. Lizzie knocks on the door, and Cassandra looks at them.

“Can you read me a story tonight? With Daisy? She makes funny faces. It's been a looooong time,” she adds in when she sees his hesitation.

He wants to say yes. He wants to say yes more than anything. But he can't.

“Sorry, sweetie. Daisy's doing something for me and she'll be gone for a while. And I-” he has to stop and clear his throat. “I don't know that I'll have time tonight. But soon, OK?” He thinks he can promise that much, at least, if everything goes as planned.

Her lips tilt in a frown and she stares at him. She suddenly looks much too serious for a four year old. He doesn't get a chance to make sure - she's had a few visions by now, and he doesn't want her to see what's going to happen. Not now. Not ever. But the door opens, and the babysitter's greeting them and taking Cassandra's hand and his baby is walking away from him. 

He swallows hard, makes himself turn and walk back down the walkway. Climbs into the car. Starts it as Lizzie drops in next to him. 

And then they sit there.

A minute passes before Lizzie clears her throat. 

“We can't stay here, Rag.”

“I know. I know. But Cassandra-”

“Will be fine. We've seen her, remember? And she's strong and beautiful and _alive_. And the longer we sit here-”

“ _I know_.” He puts the car in gear, which is an improvement, but can't make himself go. “I knew this was going to be hard-”

“Rag. Drive.”

He does. His teeth clench and his knuckles are strained white on the wheel, but he drives. 

He follows his planned route, avoiding the most populous streets in case bribes don't go as far as they used to, but keeps to well traveled roads to make sure they're picked up on cameras. The errands are quick things. He exchanges small talk when he picks up magical items he'll never scavenge energy from and deposits cash that he'll never see again.

All that's left is the store.

He finally can't hold in everything he's turning over in his head. 

“She's going to develop a shit sense of humor.”

“I doubt it's anything beyond hereditary.”

“Are you- my sense of humor is not shit. Wait, no, you're sidetracking me. Seriously, she makes puns.”

“You find those funny.”

“A wad of ghosts, Lizzie. With a straight face. And that mage. Don't get me started on the mage. Running around in the forest naked with our girl. Why is it always a mage?”

“They seemed to be good partners, from what you told me.”

“ _Naked_ , Lizzie. And he’s too narrow-minded, as is typical of the Circle. Attack first, ask questions maybe. But the vampire in London - Mircea - he kept her safe. With the Spartoi.”

“He did. But the mage did too. In the forest.”

He scowls. “She wouldn't have been in that predicament without him.”

Lizzie gives an indelicate snort. “I doubt that. She's our girl, Rag. I'm sure trouble will follow her in the future as much as it dogs her now.”

“And now the dog jokes. The myths are enough-”

“Sorry.” But the mirth doesn't sound very regretful.

“Might as well get it out now. Might be your last chance.”

“I don't believe that.”

“That makes one of us.”

“The plan will work. I won't say it's foolproof; you wouldn't believe me if I did. But we've both been working on this for a long time, and we've ironed out as much as we can. The rest is up to fate.”

“Fate. Isn't that what we're trying to shake off?”

“Yes. But we've done what we can. Now we see how it goes.”

The drive is silent for a few more minutes.

“She didn't recognize us, Liz.”

Liz looks out her window.

“Something doesn't go to plan, but I have no idea what. I've been over it and over it-”

“We couldn't ask.”

“We could've. We could've figured out where we went wrong and fixed it.”

“Or made it worse. This is the long shot, remember? The most important thing is Cassandra.”

He swallows, hard. “Yeah.”

They pull into the turning lane leading into the parking lot, but a sudden flood of traffic keeps them from entering. He takes his chance and reaches over the center dash and takes Lizzie’s hand. 

“I’m glad we met, and I’m glad we took this chance. And if it doesn’t work….” He takes a deep breath and meets her eyes, taking in the deep blue violet depths, “then I want you to know that I’m glad I had the chance to know you.” 

Lizzie offers him a small smile and squeezes his hand. “Me too. You've allowed me to feel safe for the first time in a long time. It's just one of the reasons I love you.”

An opening in traffic allows him to pull into the supermarket parking lot, where he parks near the back to avoid the other cars.

“Life has been more interesting than I would ever have expected, and you did that. Life with you has certainly never been dull. And after all,” he offers a small smile in return.

“Death is but the next great adven-”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, two lines of text are taken from two books very dear to me. 
> 
> The last line should be the most obvious one and is from the first Harry Potter novel by J.K. Rowling. 
> 
> “I’m glad I had a chance to know you” is one of the lines from Tempt the Stars that slays me every time. The entire paragraph is inspired by Pritkin’s last words to Cassie in Tempt the Stars, but that line is a direct quote.


End file.
